Monday, 5 August 2013

There must be something that rhymes with Hunt?


Hospital appointment two weeks today – it isn’t going to go well. This weekend wasn’t a lot of fun, I can tell you.

So lots of early nights, lots of sleep, good diet and gentle contemplation of things spiritual. My place in the universe. Those ‘oh so’ important questions.

Answers, answers where can I find them?


No way! Are you crazy?

Hopefully there will be some great Jazz and some Ska. If I’m really lucky there may be some more Ska on top of that. Dancing, even.

I intend to give it a really good hammering.

Two weeks, hmmm, if it goes well I may even get into some trouble.

We’ll see.

You probably feel this is getting a bit childish, so I thought I’d throw in some serious, well thought out political analysis:


There was a politician called Hunt,

who proposed to his wife in a punt.

When they became estranged,

he called her deranged,

and she said he was a rotten old health secretary.


There must be something that rhymes with ‘Hunt’?


Neil Harris

(a don’t stop till you drop production)

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